Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
my demons, they don't live under my bed
but they live inside me
at the dead of the night, they set themselves free
when the world is 'supposed' to be asleep
they pour out through my pores as black fumes
enveloping me wholly
imprisoning me from reaching for the world beyond
and oh so slowly they cut me off my high spirits
leaving me to wallow in my despair
with the darkness and my demons dancing in synchrony
but as soon as the morning rays hit my windowpane
they seep inside my pores with the gulps I take to subside my liquified miseries, again
YOU ARE READING
BLUE WHISPERS
Poetry𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑚𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠, 𝑠𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑙𝑢𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑙𝑒𝑠ℎ 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑖𝑡𝑠 ℎ𝑢𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑙𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼...
